


to begin again

by whim4short



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Breakup/makeup, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It gets worse before it gets better sorry, M/M, Snowed In, i gave suga a cat because he deserves a cat!, oh to be suga getting texts from akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whim4short/pseuds/whim4short
Summary: “What are you doing here?”“Good to see you too, Suga.”“I never said it was.”Daichi comes back after nine months. Suga can’t say he’s happy to see him.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	to begin again

Suga likes living alone. It’s quiet when he wants it to be, everything is always as he left it, and his one bedroom apartment feels more quaint than cramped most days. 

It just takes some time getting used to, at first. He still finds himself making two cups of coffee some mornings, or waiting up at night for the sounds of work boots clunking around the genkan before being abandoned. His heart still panics when he wakes up and no one’s there beside him, but other than that he’d say he’s adjusting pretty well.

Emi doesn’t seem to think so.

_“What?”_ Suga rolls his eyes.“I like it! It’s nice! And _you_ don’t seem to complain when you’re running around the house at 2am.”

His cat stares up at him, green eyes judging and unblinking. Suga huffs.

“Yeah, what do you know.” he mumbles. A second, untouched mug of coffee sits on his kitchen counter, and he dumps it in frustration. Emi is still staring at him when he looks down and he can’t help but smile.

“If I knew that you’d have a staring problem, I would’ve left you outside, you know.”

Emi meows like she doesn’t believe him. Like he had any other choice than to take her with him when she followed him on his way home from work three months ago. 

Emi eventually leaves Suga with his thoughts, black tail swishing behind her as she goes to one of her many hideouts around the apartment. Suga watches her leave, ignoring the tightening in his chest as he remembers a time when he had more than a cat to keep him company, more than his pet to come home to. 

He takes his frustrations out on the mug sitting empty and abandoned in his sink, scrubbing it until any and all evidence of untouched coffee has disappeared. 

***

Suga didn’t realize that he was dozing off, but when he wakes he has a cat in his lap and a student’s homework assignment stuck to his face. He blindly reaches out to shut off the bright lamp on his work desk, leaving his bedroom much darker than it was when he initially sat down. He has half a thought to close his eyes and return to the nap he was apparently having when a shiver runs through him, disturbing Emi and shaking the paper free from his face. 

He beats his cat to the heap of unfolded clothes on his bed. He shifts through it, trying to remember how long it’s been since he’s actually washed this pile, when his hand grazes against the collar of a sweatshirt he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to look at it to know it’s the deepest shade of navy blue, the gold fire department logo faded from too many trips through the wash. Suga liked how the stretched sleeves pooled around his wrists, how no matter how many times he wore it, it would always smell like-

Suga balls the sweatshirt up and throws it in the corner of his bedroom. He could’ve sworn he got rid of everything months ago, distinctly remembers setting everything that wasn’t his out in the hallway of his apartment complex the morning after his heart was torn out of his chest and stomped on.

Suga settles for his old Karasuno jacket, disturbing Emi once again by picking her up and holding her to his chest. Her meows of protest naturally subside as he rocks her, resolutely not looking in the direction of wherever the sweatshirt ended up. 

It’s been eight months, almost nine if Suga remembers correctly, and yet the smallest things still make his eyes sting. As if sensing his turmoil, Emi cuddles impossibly closer, and Suga soaks in her warmth as he tips his head back and begs himself not to cry.

He curses when he feels tears slip down the sides of his face regardless. He didn’t think he’d ever have to live alone again, but he was readjusting _well_ , dammit. He was still smiling at work, and eating three meals, and going to bed before the rising sun made him do it all again. 

He was doing fine, _great_ , even, until the sight of a sweatshirt makes him cry and he feels as broken and lost as he was the first night after Daichi left him.

Another shiver makes him and Emi jolt, the winter chill outside seeping through the apartment walls and Suga’s efforts to keep himself warm. 

He resigns himself to a hot bath later that evening, sinking down into the tub until his nose is brushing the waterline. The bath is still steaming, water almost unbearably hot, but he sighs in defeat as he feels himself shiver again. 

He didn’t realize how cold his apartment could be until there was no one to share it with. 

***

**_Do you want me to come over?_ **

Akaashi’s text stares back at him as Suga tries to blink himself awake. His bedroom is unusually bright as he wakes up, and he glances outside to see snow lazily falling from the sky.

He doesn’t remember what all he said last night, but it must’ve been at least _somewhat_ concerning if that was his friend’s only response. A weather notification describing the heavy snowfall sits above the text, and he quickly texts Akaashi not to travel in the snow. He hopes Akaashi’s already decided to stay home, because the first text was sent hours ago ( _who the fuck texts someone at 5am?)._

He stretches as much as he can with Emi snoring soundly on his chest. A stew would be perfect in this weather, and he thinks he has the right ingredients if he can find some-

The doorbell startles Suga out of his thoughts and Emi from her sleep. She meows in annoyance as she hops off of him, and Suga echoes the sentiment with a groan of his own. He can barely pull Akaashi out of his home on normal days, but he decides _snow_ is the perfect weather to make a house call?

The doorbell rings again and Suga reluctantly pulls himself out of bed. He stumbles to the genkan with all the grace of a half asleep adult man and yanks his front door open.

“I _just_ texted you not to travel in the-” He starts, but abruptly shuts his mouth with a click.

Suga blinks.

And blinks again. 

He curls his left hand into a fist and sinks his fingernails into his palm. Partly to stop himself from launching it across his entryway, but mainly because he thinks (read: hopes) that he’s actually still in bed and this is all a dream. Or a nightmare, in this case.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, Suga.”

“I never said it was.”

Daichi at least has the decency to look guilty as he stands there. He clears his throat.

“I had a connecting flight out of the local airport, but all the flights got cancelled an hour ago because of the snow. There were only a handful of taxis still leaving the airport, and you know everyone else is at least a 40 minute drive from here. So I thought I’d come here.”

“And you thought I’d let you in?” Suga asks incredulously. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he can’t bring himself to care. Daichi winces.

“I didn’t have anywhere else I could go, and it’s impossible to travel far in this weather. I wouldn’t impose if I had another option.”

Suga doesn’t respond, glancing down to see Daichi’s pants soaked from knee to ankle. His boots are covered in rapidly melting snow, and he’s sopping and dripping on Suga’s $50 custom doormat. 

Suga’s left eye twitches.

“And why couldn’t you stay in the airport?”

Daichi sighs. “Suga, please.”

Suga groans internally as he steps back and opens his door wider.

He hears Daichi whisper _thank you_ but ignores him, instead motioning wordlessly for him to take his drenched coat off. Suga takes it and hangs it up in the bathroom, taking a moment to stare at himself in the mirror above the sink. He holds his hands up to the mirror and watches one hand pinch the other, ensuring that he’s not dreaming and his ex-boyfriend really is standing in his house.

Cool. Cool cool cool.

Daichi’s frozen by the time he returns to the living room, soaked boots hanging in his hands as he stares at Emi. 

“You got a cat.” It's phrased like a question, like he doesn’t believe the black blob blinking up at him is real.

Emi meows at him as if to answer his question. Daichi nods like he understood her.

“She doesn’t scratch.” Suga provides. Daichi nods again, slowly setting his shoes down and looking like he’d rather be back on the other side of the door. 

“Move your coat out the way and go take a shower. You’ll freeze if you stay in those pants.” Suga says before he can stop himself. Daichi looks up at him like that’s the last thing he was expecting. Suga doesn’t blame him.

“That’s not- I don’t want to impose.”

“Daichi, you’re already in my home. The last thing I need is you dripping everywhere, getting sick, and getting me sick too.” 

Daichi nods, slowly moving around Emi and slipping down the hall to the bathroom. Suga waits until he hears the shower running before looking down at Emi. She meows at him.

“I don’t know what the hell is happening either, Emi.” Suga sighs. He gathers some old lounge clothes in his room, wordlessly adding the old fire department sweatshirt to the pile, before dropping the clothes in front of the bathroom door. 

He texts Akaashi **_you should’ve come over, asshole_ ** before flopping face first onto his bed.

***

“You can sit on the couch and wait until the snow clears enough for one of your friends to come get you. You know how to use the tv, and _I promise she doesn’t bite_ , Daichi.” 

Daichi doesn’t even look like he’s heard him, sitting iron straight at the edge of the couch. Emi is laying on the armrest on the other side, tail swishing lazily as she stares. He slowly shakes his head, not taking his eyes off of her.

“You never know with cats. You can never tell what they’re thinking. That’s why I never wanted one when we were together.” He says it so casually, like he’s referring to the snow outside and not the end of the warmest years of Suga’s life.

The broadness of Daichi’s shoulders and the bulk of his arms fills out the fire department sweatshirt in ways that Suga was never able to, but would always compliment Daichi on. His stomach swoops uncomfortably and he feels like throwing up.

“Yeah, well we aren’t together anymore, are we?” Suga snaps. It’s childish, and he feels childish saying it, but Daichi’s just _here_ , taking up a space he left months ago with a sorry excuse of a goodbye and acting like the last 5 years were just a blip on his radar while it was Suga’s whole world. His universe. His future. His everything. 

Daichi falls silent and Suga scoops Emi off of the couch before she gives him a heart attack. “I’ll be working in my room.”  
  


Suga doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten until he hears Emi impatiently meowing at the door for dinner. He realizes that not only is it almost dark outside, but the snow has picked up significantly. _That’s_ no good.

The living room is unnaturally quiet when Suga emerges. The tv is off and the only light is coming from the snow that flutters past the window. Daichi’s fast asleep on the couch, open book forgotten and slowly rising and falling with the rhythm of his chest.

Daichi doesn’t look like he’s changed much, to Suga’s surprise. He doesn’t know what he was expecting (he wasn’t expecting _him_ , after all), but something about moving to the other side of the country sounds like it should change you, at least a little bit. He could argue that Daichi’s gotten slightly bulkier, as most firefighters do as they continue to work, but everything else still looks like the Daichi that Suga knows.

Well, the Daichi that Suga _knew_. 

The Daichi that Suga knew had a smile that made Suga’s knees feel wobbly and a laugh that settled between his ribs and refused to leave his mind. He would make breakfast in the mornings and slide into their bed every night and fit behind Suga like a puzzle piece. He had glances and nicknames and barely there touches that could still send shivers up his spine and make his whole body dance with excitement five years later. He had a love that Suga had been ready to call home for the rest of his life.

The Daichi that Suga knew loved him. And that’s more than he can say for the man currently asleep in his living room. 

Suga sighs, grabbing a couple of spare blankets from his hallway closet and tossing them at the foot of the couch. He leaves a packet of instant udon on the coffee table and locks himself in his room before he does something stupid like try to tuck the blankets around him.

All he can do is crawl into bed and hope that the weather will clear just enough in the morning so Daichi can leave.

_So he can leave again_ , his mind _helpfully_ supplies.

***

Suga dreams of warmth most nights. He tries to reason that it’s because the chill of winter has found a home in every corner of his apartment, but he never envisions sunny beaches or steaming saunas. The warmth he dreams of is all encompassing, an unwavering heat that settles in his bones and vibrates under his skin. It burns the tips of his ears and turns his brain to jelly, allowing no room for protest or pushback.

Suga’s favorite part about this dream is never the warmth that provides temporary relief from the chill, but the steadiness of it. How the intensity never wanes, never hesitates, never fails to engulf him entirely.

He can never visualize the heat, never sense where it’s coming from or how it found him, but part of him knows the answer without having to ask the question.

And the moment he leans too far into the feeling, tries to grasp onto some remnant to take with him to the waking world, the heat dissipates, slipping through his fingers and leaving him as cold as it found him. 

In the stillness of the morning, with Emi resting on his chest and the phantom heat from his dream tickling the back of his neck, Suga can almost convince himself that he simply dreamed a day with Daichi too. It’s not _that_ far fetched, and he’s clearly dreamt of weirder.

That is until he hears the sound of solid feet trying (and failing) to tiptoe down the hallway, followed by the creak of his shower running. 

His reality settles back around him, and a quick glance outside shows much more snow than the day before. Chips of ice are also clinking against the window as they fall, and Suga reaches for his phone to check the weather. 

His jaw drops, and Emi swats at his bottom lip.

Snowed in. 

Snowed. 

Fucking.

_In._

All the major roads are closed and being cleared of snow. A travel advisory warns against driving in the storm and recommends that people stay where they’re at for as long as possible.

Suga shuffles down the hall in a daze, so preoccupied with the fact that _he and Daichi are snowed in_ that he trips over Emi and almost punts her across the apartment. 

Daichi’s sitting straight up on the sofa, legs tucked under himself and eyes closed as he hums softly under his breath. His suitcase is slightly ajar on the floor in front of him, and the lounge clothes Suga left him are folded neatly next to the untouched noodle packet on the coffee table. He’s wearing a rust orange sweatshirt, the black emblem of a fire department Suga doesn’t recognize splayed across the chest.

“Good morn- oh. You, uh, your hairs sticking up on one side.” Daichi says, glancing at Suga out of the corner of his eye. He looks...nervous, almost. Suga raises an eyebrow.

“Are you on a hunger strike or something?” Daichi shrugs.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’ve infiltrated my entire living room. I think it’s a bit late for that.” 

“I-”

“If you want to starve, I’ll let you. I just wanted to know.” Suga quips. Daichi grabs his wrist when he moves to put the noodles away.

The first thing Suga notices is that Daichi’s hand is warm. It’s not really a surprise, his hands typically are - _were_ \- warmer and rougher around the fingertips than Suga’s, but it still feels like his wrist has been burned all the same. 

Suga yanks his hand back. There’s feelings that he can’t place - longing, hurt, anger, _more hurt_ \- swirling around in his chest, and it must show on his face. Daichi reels back like he surprised himself.

“Sorry, I just- I’ll take the food. Thank you.” 

Suga only nods. He rubs at his wrist, futilely trying to forget the feeling of Daichi’s hand on his skin. “I’ll be working in my room for most of the day, so help yourself in the kitchen.”

He leaves Daichi in the living room before he can respond, preparing breakfast for Emi and himself and shutting himself in his room.

Emi meows up at him and Suga glares. “ _Don’t judge me_. One more word from you and I’m throwing your breakfast away.”

***

Suga likes to think that he’s gotten used to Emi staring at him.

It was a little off putting in the beginning. Some nights he would roll over in the middle of his sleep and find a pair of green eyes glowing in the dark. He could be grading assignments, or cooking, or watching tv when the hairs on the back of neck would stand up, forcing him to whip his head around and locate the spy that he unknowingly invited into his apartment. He thought it was cute when she first followed him home, but now he’s gotten used to the sensation of being monitored by his cat every so often. 

_That_ , however, is nothing compared to the feeling of being watched by a grown man.

The feeling makes him pause and hunch his shoulders. Emi’s sound asleep on his bed, but the sensation keeps poking at the base of his neck.

He whips his head around and catches Daichi standing at the crack in his doorway before he disappears.

_“What the fuck?”_ Suga hisses. The man reappears in the doorway with a guilty look on his face.

“You’ve been in that same spot for a moment and you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” Is Daichi’s only explanation. Suga squints.

“How long have you been watching me?”

“You need to take care of your health.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“Long enough to know that you need to take care of your health.”

“Oh my god.” Suga groans, standing and stretching nonetheless. He opens his bedroom door wider and gives Daichi an unimpressed look. “I’m not going to be lectured by the person that went on a hunger strike last night.”

“That’s different.”

“Sure it is.” Suga strides into the kitchen, grabs an apple off the counter, and waves it in Daichi’s face. “Happy now?”

Daichi watches Suga as he walks back into his room, and stands at the crack in the doorway again. 

“There’s still dishes in the sink from breakfast.”

Suga blinks. “That’s usually where they go when they’re dirty.”

“No, I- Can I wash them?”

Suga feels his eyebrows shoot to his hairline on their own accord. “If you’re _that_ bored, go right ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

Daichi nods once before disappearing again. Suga pauses, waits for the sounds of running water and dishes clattering together before returning to his work. 

The sounds of someone else bustling around the kitchen make nice background noise. Suga refuses to acknowledge how much he’s missed it.

He takes a bite of his apple and wills himself to refocus. He has a few more stacks of worksheets left to grade, and a new set of lesson plans that he has to review. It’s a lot, but he could probably get everything done tonight if he just-

“What _now_?” Suga sighs without turning around. He hears his bedroom door creak open a few inches.

“You should take care of your work and rest space in order to get the most out of it.”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Suga groans.

“You have piles of clothes everywhere, and your desk is a mess-”

“Is this your way of asking if you can clean my room? Because you can if that will get you to stop talking and let me work.”

Daichi enters silently, collecting the piles strewn about Suga’s bedroom and making one giant heap on his bed. He folds the clothes slowly, as meticulously as he always did. 

Suga doesn't think about how natural it feels to have Daichi back in his space. He thought it would be weird, that Daichi would stick out like a wonky puzzle piece that no longer fit, but he doesn’t. He slots back into place like he never left, like he didn’t snatch Suga’s heart out through his ribcage and take it with him when he moved to the other side of the country.

Suga _doesn’t_ think about it, and tries to ignore the sounds of his _traitor_ of a cat playing with Daichi as he folds his clothes.

***

Akaashi is quite literally the worst friend Suga has ever had.

**_So you still like him._ **

Suga glares at the text - the _only_ text he’s received in response to the paragraphs he sent to catch his friend up to speed - and contemplates blocking Akaashi’s number.

Dozens of potential responses have flown through Suga’s head in the four minutes he’s spent staring at the message, but none of them capture how- how _wrong_ , and how _inaccurate_ , and how stupid it is for him to even _assume-_

It’s not even worded as a question. _Bastard_.

Suga settles for disliking the message and sending a string of middle finger emojis in response. 

He slides his phone across the kitchen counter and leans his weight against it. The kitchen is quickly filling with the soft smell of sugar as his cheesecake bakes, and the ingredients for more are lined up next to the sink. The last he checked, Daichi’s still pretending to fold his clothes while playing with Emi.

They weren’t supposed to end up like this. They were supposed to be annoying, sappy things that sang each other's praises as their friends begged for them to stop. They were supposed to have a beach wedding in the summer, and adopt kids in the winter, and grow old _together_. 

But things come up and people move and some get left behind wondering what the hell they did wrong. 

Suga looks down and realizes he made enough batter for _two more fucking cakes_.

_Dammit._

“I finished putting your clothes away.” Daichi announces as he enters the kitchen.

“Great.”

“The cat is playful when she stops staring at you.” 

“Mmhm.” The cake has been in the oven for 15 minutes, so it has a little over an hour left. Suga has to reduce the heat of the oven to-

“Suga, are you okay?”

“What do _you_ think, Daichi? I’ve been stuck in the same apartment with you all weekend. How do you think I’ve been doing? Honestly.”

“I don’t mean to get in your way-”

“It’s not the fact that you _get in my way,_ god. It’s the fact that you just fucking dumped me and left me on my ass for nine months, and now you pop up at my door smiling in my face like you don’t care. Like it - like _this_ \- didn’t mean shit to you.”

“You know it did.” Daichi says defensively. 

“How was I supposed to know that? You threw away a five year relationship like it was a pair of shoes that you didn’t want anymore. You just packed up and _left_. And then you act like everything’s fine when you get here. Like we’re still close enough that you can just hang out for a weekend without it tearing me up inside.”

Suga wipes at his eyes harshly. The crying is the worst part. It’s messy and gross and once he starts it feels like he doesn't know how to stop. The more he tries to keep it at bay the more it hurts, and he can feel the weight of it building until it’s clogging up his throat and searing against his eyes, begging to be released.

Suga’s gripping the kitchen counter and doesn’t realize that he’s trembling until Daichi’s by his side, placing his hands gently over Suga’s and squeezing lightly.

“Kou.” He whispers, squeezing again.

And that’s all he needs. The dam that Suga had been so carefully constructing for the past nine months bursts open, buckling his knees with the force of it. He can’t stop himself from falling, doesn’t have the physical strength to if he wanted to, but Daichi’s there to hold him and they slide to the ground together.

Daichi rubs a hand across his back as he cries, using the other one to push his hair out of his face. He’s humming a song that Suga doesn’t recognize, and it sends a comforting rumble through his body as sobs continue to shake him. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit on the kitchen floor, but Daichi informs him that his cakes haven’t burned when the tremors finally stop. 

“I didn’t ask you to come with me because I was afraid you were gonna say no,” Daichi whispers. He holds Suga tighter to him as he speaks. “I thought I was doing the right thing by making the decision for the both of us.”

“All I wanted was for you to want me to come with you.”

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose between your home and me.”

“I would choose you every time.” Suga whispers, leaning against Daichi’s chest. “Every time.”

Daichi places a hesitant kiss on Suga’s forehead. It feels like lighting a match under Suga’s skin, and he has to stop himself from physically jolting. “I’m so sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

Suga hums. “I’ll be holding you to that.”

***

Suga walks into his kitchen the next morning to find Daichi rocking Emi in one hand while making two cups of coffee with the other and tries not to swoon _too_ dramatically. 

“She crawled up my leg, so I figured she wanted to be held.” Daichi explains, pressing a hot cup of coffee into Suga’s hands. He takes the other cup and leans against the counter across from him.

“How has the new position been?” 

“It’s been really good. It’s more administrative, so I travel a lot more now, and I was chosen to represent the Hokkaido prefecture at the Tokyo Fire Safety Conference this year.” Daichi smiles, puffing out his chest. “That’s what brought me to Miyagi, and that’s where I was headed before the storm hit. How’s work been treating you?”

“It’s good. I have a great group of kids this year.”

Daichi laughs into his coffee mug before taking another sip. “You say that every year.”

“I can’t help that every year is a good year. All the kids love me.”

“I don’t blame them.” Daichi smiles.

Suga smiles back, staring at the man before him and wondering when home started feeling less like a place and more like a smile and promises held between rib cages.  
  


They spend the day in comfortable silence. Suga lazily chips away at the work pile on his desk while Daichi cleans and keeps Emi entertained around the house. Daichi brings him snacks every two hours and tries to not get caught staring when he thinks Suga’s not looking.

Suga feels the restless ball of emotion that’s been welling up inside of him finally begin to unfurl.

They gather on the couch in the evening, plates of cheesecake long abandoned on the coffee table as they share stories of work and life that they’ve missed out on. Suga tries not to focus on what tomorrow will bring, tries not to acknowledge the fact that he hasn’t seen it snow for hours now, but Daichi’s right there running a hand up his leg to ground him. 

“What’s on your mind, Kou?” Daichi whispers.

Suga shakes his head. “I’m just overthinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head again. “I want you to kiss me.”

Daichi’s taken aback for a moment, but slowly closes the distance between them. He pauses inches away from where Suga wants him.

“Are you sure?”

Suga answers the question by leaning up and closing the final gap between them. The kiss is chaste, on the sweeter side of the ones they’ve shared, and it makes a weight Suga didn’t realize he was holding melt from his shoulders. 

Daichi breaks the kiss to leave soft grazes along Suga’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead. Under Daichi’s attention, with his face cupped in the other man’s hands, Suga finally allows himself to acknowledge how much he’s truly _missed_ this. He feels tears slip down his cheeks before he can stop them, but Daichi kisses those away too.

They stay intertwined on the couch, and for the first time Suga is finally able to put a name to the warmth that waits for him in his dreams.

***

The travel advisory is lifted by the time they wake up.

After a few phone calls, Daichi’s supervisors get him on one of the next planes out of Miyagi.

Suga panics for a moment, afraid of what’ll happen when Daichi walks out that door again, but Daichi pulls him close, pushing his hair from his forehead and kissing him there before he can worry too much.

“Don’t get stuck in your head, Kou. We’ll be okay, I promise.”

Daichi gathers his belongings in relative silence, packing one handed once Emi demands to be held again. Suga convinces Daichi to take some cheesecake back with him, arguing that it’s his fault for triggering his stress baking in the first place. 

Before either one of them are ready, a taxi is idling in front of the apartment and Daichi is back on the other side of the door.

“I want you with me. I’m sorry that I didn’t make that clear before, because I always want you with me.” Daichi fiddles with the strap of his backpack and hunches his shoulders. “I don’t want to be selfish and ask you to come with me-”

“That’s all I want you to do, Daichi.” Suga says, and he means it.

Daichi sucks in a breath. “Come with me, Kou. You can finish the school year here, or whatever you need to do, but just- come home to me, soon. Please.”

Suga smiles, feeling lighter and warmer and happier than he has in a long time. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whim stop writing about abstract dreams challenge  
> Thank you again so much for reading! I had so much fun writing this so I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Comments are always appreciated <3
> 
> [scream about hq with me on twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/whim4short)


End file.
